DULUTH, Minn. — They've eaten lobsters with a lobsterman on the New Brunswick coast. They've discovered the fine art of huckleberry harvesting in Montana. They've found the Barbie Car Graveyard tucked in rural Texas.

Duluth retirees Rich and Molly Hoeg have experienced all of that while cruising America together on their annual biking tours. Every summer since 2012, when they moved from the Twin Cities to Duluth, the Hoegs have lit out for a month or more on their bikes to see what they might see.

"The world is different at 12 mph," says Rich, 60. "You never know who you're going to see, who you're going to meet. There's so much stuff you'd never see at 55 mph."

The Hoegs, both of whom had been raised in Duluth, never ride as part of organized bike tours. They plan, research and make their trips on their own. Carrying about 25 pounds apiece — extra clothing, a little food, some camping gear — they cover about 50 miles a day.

Early this summer, they'll make their first overseas ride, nearly a month in northern Scotland. On previous rides, they've toured around part of Lake Superior, America's South, Canada's Maritime provinces, the Northwest, the Upper Mississippi and the Wisconsin River.

Yes, they're in shape. Both have run marathons, and Molly is a self-described "exercise fanatic." They can get on and go. But they're never in a hurry. These trips are far more about collecting experiences than about making miles. On one trip from Glacier National Park to the West Coast, they added a 200-mile side trip along the way.

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While they've done shorter trips, they find a month or so about right.

"That helps you get into another world," Rich says.

"Even on a month-long, sometimes you don't get there," says Molly, 61.

They cover about 1,500 miles on most month-long adventures, but they traveled for 54 days and 2,354 miles in Canada's Maritimes and the northeastern U.S.

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Molly and Rich Hoeg take a break along the ocean in Quebec on their 2013 Grand Gaspe Tour, a 2,354-mile bike tour through Canada's Maritime provinces and the Northeastern U.S. (Courtesy Rich Hoeg / Duluth News Tribune)

Their touring blossomed from a short trip that Rich and the Hoegs' son, Carl, made near Ely and along the North Shore in 2010. After Molly and Rich had moved back to Duluth in 2012, Rich asked Molly if she would be interested in doing an extended bike tour. She had just retired after her career in information technology at the Minneapolis Star Tribune. Rich would soon retire from his position as a software manager with Honeywell.

Molly was willing to try a tour.

"I said, 'Yes, if you'll get me a new bike,' " she said.

They have basic preferences for the tours they conceive. They like to ride along water. They ride in regions of low population density, avoiding cities. They avoid major highways. And they try to ride when temperatures are in the mid-40s or above.

They camp about 20 percent of the time, use motels about half the time, and stay with people who open their homes through a network called warmshowers.org, a hospitality exchange for touring cyclists. In return, the couple has welcomed touring cyclists into their Duluth home.

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The Hoegs learned early in their touring — on their Trans-Superior tour — to pull over when the mood strikes them. Riding toward Washburn, Rich spotted a large wooden cow painted purple in a field. Curious, the couple stopped. That led to a fascinating encounter with an old wood carver in Washburn.

The "purple cow" metaphor was born. One of the Hoegs will see something unusual along the way, and holler at the other, "Hey, was that a purple cow?" And they'll turn around to inspect.

They find people all over the country willing to engage them on their tours.

"The world can't peg your social strata when you're on a bike," Rich says. "People who have a lot of money will talk to you. People who drive the most beat-up old pickups will talk to you."

Possibly, that's because people usually are curious about anyone who appears to be moving across the country under their own power. And, too, the Hoegs are outgoing and curious people who are easy to engage.

It was a man in an old pickup somewhere in Montana who said he'd been out harvesting huckleberries. The Hoegs followed him to his truck, where he demonstrated the long forked tongs he uses to harvest his huckleberries. Of course, he shared some with the Hoegs.

The Barbie Car Graveyard was an obvious "purple cow" and required a stop near Tyler, Texas. Later on the same trip, in Arkansas, Molly was riding ahead of Rich when she was pulled over by a county sheriff, his lights flashing. There had been a burglary the night before just down the road, and a neighbor had called authorities to report that the Hoegs looked suspicious. The sheriff quickly realized they were not the likely culprits: He could see they couldn't have stashed a large-screen TV in their bike bags.

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On most of their previous trips, Rich and Molly have planned a detailed route ahead of time, often using Google Maps or Google Earth to check out roads — down to detailed views of a road's surface. But for their northern Scotland tour coming up this summer, they're taking a looser approach.

"We don't have a specific route," Rich says. "We know we want to do the coast and probably the Hebrides Islands."

They'll just put their bikes on a plane and figure it out once they're in Scotland.

"What's so cool," Molly says, "is the simplicity. There are no big decisions to make. You get up. You put on the same clothes. You follow the same routine. But every day has its own surprises."

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